


Choose Love or Pity (But Never Both)

by tiatodd



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Drunken Kissing, Drunken Russian, Drunkenness, Kirkov, M/M, Underage Drinking, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-21
Updated: 2013-08-21
Packaged: 2017-12-24 06:09:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/936316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiatodd/pseuds/tiatodd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chekov has had a bit much to drink, but so long as the Captain is there, he doesn't need to worry much about walking straight. What he does need to worry about are those words that didnt even ask his permission to leave his lips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choose Love or Pity (But Never Both)

**Author's Note:**

> I worked so hard on this in Italy. It is my baby.
> 
> Please appreciate this more than Tumblr did ;^;

With one last up-ended shot of tequila, Scotty slunk to the floor. The drunken victor ascended to the table top, declaring before he raised and slammed down one more victory shot, “Aaaahaha, take—hic—zat, Meester Scott!” His fellow ensigns cheered him on as they had been, and Pavel turned around, pointing an unsteady finger over the lot of them. “Who’s next? I could take an—hic—any ‘f you! Who’s g’na take z’ nex’ shot?” he challenged, simultaneously falling backwards off the table and into the convenient arms of Jim Kirk.  
“Obviously not you, Mr. Chekov.”  
Dazed and disoriented, the inebriated navigator blinked up at his stern-faced superior, and began to giggle. “You have w—hic—wery bluetiful brue eyes, Keptin.” A little burp escaped his lips, causing him to giggle some more. “I want to swim in zem.”  
Kirk sighed and readjusted his grip on the boy, hooking an arm around his waist. “Mr. Spock,” he called, “Please escort Scotty to his quarters. The rest of you,” he stressed, “Drink frickin’ responsibly. Jesus.”  
\--  
“Will you shut up about my eyes already, damn,” Jim mumbled as he slammed open the door to Chekov’s room. “They’re not that blue!”  
“Zey not?”  
Pavel, now seated on the edge of his bed, swayed a bit with a confused look in his half-lidded eyes. “What means ‘not’—oh! Ah yes I—hic—I know zat word. H-hey, Keptin…”  
“Go to sleep, Mr. Chekov.”  
“No, wait! Kep-HIC!—Keptin I’nto ask you somefink.” He stood, rather unsteadily, and fiddled with the hem of his shirt, dizzy blue eyes waiting for the captain’s permission.  
Kirk sighed, folded his arms, and leaned against the wall. “Well, what is it?”  
“D’jou…d’jou understand what I say—hic—in Russian? When y’walk m…walk me here. D’jou understand anyfink?”  
Noticing that the poor drunken ensign was about to topple over, Jim placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him, and chuckled. “No, Mr. Chekov, I don’t speak Russian.”  
The young man hiccupped mid-sigh. “Good…zat w’ be a leetle embarrassing if you did b’n’cuz—cuz I knowzatyou—hic—hawe somesing for Meester Spock…h-he is scary, da…but maybe zat just b’cuz hhhe is Wulcan—W-Wulcan…God damn eet! Wwwwvulcan. Vwul—w—Vwul—hic—fuck!”  
“Mr. Chekov, you need to get some slee—mnf!”  
Two thoughts crossed Kirk’s mind when the young ensign’s lips mashed against his. The first was, “What?” and the second was “Oh, no.” Before he could break the kiss, Chekov already had, hands locked behind the captain’s neck as he whispered, “What I ssssaid be—hic—before…in Rossian…I say zat…I want for you to fuck me…”  
“Shit,” Kirk sighed, unlacing the boy’s fingers. He held both of Chekov’s hands in his. “Look at me. Look. You are drunk, and you need to _sleep._ ”  
“K-Keptin no I’m fine I—hic—‘m fine…”  
“Okay. Sure, Mr. Chekov, I believe you,” said the captain as he pushed the kid down onto the bed and began to remove his shoes. “I believe you’re fine. But you’re tired, too, yeah?”  
Pavel stopped squirming and thought about that statement, nodding slowly. “Da…”  
“Then you should sleep, yeah?”  
It was like hypnosis, the way his eyes closed and body relaxed at just the mention of the word. Jim watched him for a moment, the worry in his throat releasing once he realized the poor kid would likely not remember any of this. He wondered how long he’d had this crush on him. If it had been a great while, then Chekov was very good at playing it close to the vest. Yes, Kirk had nothing to worry about, so long as sober Chekov kept his priorities straight.  
As he stood to leave, Pavel stirred. “Keptin…”  
“What is it, Mr. Chekov?”  
“Ya…lublyu tebya…”  
“I don’t understand Russian, Mr. Chekov.”  
But he had fallen asleep again, and Kirk left the room, wondering if anyone else on the ship knew. If they didn’t, he wouldn’t tell them. It was enough that they treated him like a teenager already; they didn’t need the legitimacy of a crush.  
~~~  
“Rise and shine, Scotty,” Captain Kirk all but shouted as he threw on the florescent lights of Mr. Scott’s room. “You’ve had a full thirteen hours.”  
“OW! God fucking dammit, you bl—“  
“That is ‘yes sir, Captain,’ to you,” Kirk warned.  
The Scotsman folded over himself, clutching his head in his hands. “Be gentle, fuck! I’m sick as a damn dog o’er here.”  
“Yes, well, Mr. Chekov is probably a lot worse off right now. I can’t believe you let him drink!”  
Mr. Scott groaned, turning in on himself with the covers over his face. “He’s nineteen, Captain. And you saw las’ night he can hold his liquor perfe’ly fine. Now go away and let me fuckin’ sleep!”  
“Can hold his liquor. Okay. He fell off the damn table. Of course, you couldn’t see that part, because you had passed out on the floor.” He tore the sheets back, earning a lot of angry cursing. “He out-drank you. You. If a person can out drink you, there is something wrong.”  
Scotty calmed down some, still hiding his eyes from the light. “Wh—he out-drank me? Son of a bitch…tha’s an accomplishment righ’ there.”  
“You are not going to congratulate him for this.”  
“Captain, why are you so stressed out aboo’ this? ‘S just a bit o’ fun. If he were my age you wouldn’t be—“  
“I’m not ageist! Ugh…Mr. Scott, he kissed me last night.”  
“Ohhh, no…guh…he didn’t wan’ ya ta know, Cap’n. You won’ say anything t’ the lad, will you?”  
“Wh—no…you knew about this?”  
“I could tell somethin’ was atin’ him. He just had to tell someone.” Scotty pressed his palms to his temples. “Guh…God. Don’t worry too much about Chekov. It ain’t his first hangover.”  
“Hm.” Kirk sighed and left, headed next for Chekov’s quarters. The kid was just leaving, freshly showered and with a hand holding his head.  
“Hey,” Kirk greeted, voice and eyes and smile soft. “How you feeling?”  
“O-oh hello, Keptin, I didn’t see you zere…” He avoided eye contact. “What…what happened last night?”  
Kirk chuckled, shaking his head. “You drank Mr. Scott under the table, which you then fell off of.”  
“Oh my god!”  
“I caught you, don’t worry.”  
Chekov stiffened visibly. “You took me to ze ship as well?”  
“Yes.”  
The color drained from his already very pale face. “Did I…uh…say anysing? Zat would haff offended you, sir?”  
“Uhh I wouldn’t know. I don’t speak Russian.”  
Pavel relaxed and smiled, nodding. “Sank god,” he said under his breath.  
“What was that, Mr. Chekov?”  
“Ah, just zat I am hungry, sir.”  
“Of course, Mr. Chekov. On your way.” With a smile and a nod and a “yes sir,” Chekov headed for the mess hall. “I believe you said something about my eyes, actually.”  
Kirk couldn’t see it, but the boy went several shades paler.  
“It was such a great compliment to get from the guy with the prettiest eyes on the Enterprise.”  
The blood rushed to Chekov’s face so fast he nearly toppled over with the intensified pounding in his head. “I-I…s-sank you, sir, I…sank you…” He brisk walked around the next corner and out of sight.  
Kirk chuckled to himself. “Come on, Jim, don’t be a dick.”


End file.
